(little brother)
by cawcawmotherfuckers
Summary: Bro raises Dave from toddler to young adult, and Bro's feelings towards the younger Strider slowly change from fatherly, to brotherly, to something he can't quite determine. Mute!Dave, Stridercest. Rating will be changed to M as the story progresses. Please see description and warnings inside!


**A/N: **So I was talking to my darling Hani and mentioned that I haven't written a proper, multi-chapter, non-PWP fanfiction in a long time. And what better pairing to base it on than Stridercest? I hope my readers enjoy, I'd love feedback!

**Summary: **Bro raises Dave from toddler to young adult, and Bro's feelings towards the younger Strider slowly change from fatherly, to brotherly, to something he can't quite determine. Mute!Dave, Stridercest. Rating will be changed to M as the story progresses.

**Description: **This story will start off non-sexual, seeing as I do not support pedophilia even when it comes to fictional characters. Incest, however, is a little different? As Dave does grow older in this story, he and Bro will have more tension and perhaps even awkward romantic moments, but I can promise my readers that any sexual situations will not happen until after Dave is eighteen years and up.

The text in bold and parentheses are Bro's inner nagging thoughts. Dave is not his biological younger brother, and though I do not plan to reveal what the situation really is, it does plague him. The fact that Dave is mute also troubles Bro quite a bit, as you will see in future chapters.

**Warnings: **This story is rated T currently. However, in several chapters I will change the rating to M, as I do plan for the relationship between Bro and Dave to slowly shift to a relationship sort of thing. I will post warnings per chapter based on its content.

* * *

**(little brother)**

prologue: toddler

* * *

"Sup, lil man."

The child nodded in acknowledgement and sipped from his box of apple juice before seating himself next to Bro on the beat up sofa. The older brother **(figure of sorts)** let a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth at the sight of the kid staring intently at the television screen, where one of their many owned B-list movies was playing, now with one of his small hands clutching one of the same size. The puppet—fondly referred to as Lil Cal, or just Cal—had recently become the boy's best friend. Bro had honestly expected him to be frightened by Cal for life, but it seemed that this wasn't entirely the case anymore.

Bro Strider was only a teenager and had lived alone in this same apartment with the quickly growing Dave Strider for a few years now. He didn't like to go out much with his **(pretend)** younger brother, which he knew was wrong; however, he also knew it was for the boy's safety. Bro's deepest fear was to have Dave be taken away and sent somewhere he would suffer around others who didn't understand him or have the patience to try to.

Bro's smile turned into a grimace and he quickly turned his head away to hide his expression. Both Striders had an unspoken rule of keeping their cool, even with Dave as young as he was. Dave looked up to Bro, even though it was never vocally brought to his attention; even the shades they wore were identical in everything but size. The kid mimicked his older brother** (to his knowledge)** religiously, only differing slightly to individualize his image and separate his identity from Bro's.

The older male swallowed hard and quickly glanced at the boy next to him. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed Bro's slip up. When he had lived alone, Bro had no trouble or even concern about keeping his cool, but his overwhelming sense of protection and care for the little guy had definitely become a minor problem when it came to it. He doubted Dave was even aware of it. Hell, the kid only really seemed to care about his apple juice, crayon drawings, and collection of dead things—children were relatively simple, and Dave was no exception to this fact, even if he was a Strider being raised by someone who didn't deserve to be referred to as a father figure.

Bro felt a nudge on his shoulder and looked down to see Dave motioning towards the hallway. His mouth remained a nearly straight line, but Bro knew the boy well enough to know what he needed. "Gotta piss?"

A nod. He hops off of the couch and holds his hand up.

A knot rises in the teenager's throat and he takes it, halfheartedly scolding Dave about how holding hands was for babies, and he was getting too old for that, but still he walks his little brother to the bathroom to help him relieve himself.

"You're getting better, you know," Bro commented, leaning against the doorway while Dave climbs on the little stool they have. Bro didn't allow those 'potties' anymore, telling the little guy that real men used the toilet. Dave had enthusiastically agreed, but had a very serious problem with being alone. "Last night you slept by yourself until, what, midnight? Good job, dude."

Dave doesn't respond, probably embarrassed. Bro forces a smirk of sorts, which was the appropriate expression. Complimenting your little brother **(stop lying to yourself)** was the kind of thing which was supposed to be fun because he always would get flustered. Too bad it wasn't.

Babies couldn't be left by themselves. Anyone with common sense possessed this knowledge. But what troubled Bro was that even as Dave grew older, his tendency to avoid isolation became increasingly severe. The teenager had researched for months on what was normal behavior for a child Dave's age, and even had found what seemed to be solutions. But nothing worked, and the boy still had a very hard time being away from his fellow Strider.

Perhaps that was why Dave was so fond of Cal, he mused, helping Dave up to the sink to wash his hands. Yeah, Cal wasn't a real life person or anything, but Dave seemed to find comfort in having another's presence. If he was alone for too long and became afraid—for instance, if Bro had to run an errand—he would completely drop his stoic mask and wreak havoc in the apartment, throwing whatever he could get his hands on, even hurting himself in the state of panic that he would go into. Bro had since learned to spend no more than thirty minutes away from the little guy at a time. The one thing that tore his heart was to come home to see the tears streaming down the child's face and mouth open in a shrill, shattering scream.

**(if it was even possible)**

Dave stood waiting in the hallway, staring at Bro in slight confusion. The latter remained rigid and grit his teeth at his reflection in the mirror, unaware he was being watched. He knew it wasn't his fault. He knew that there wasn't anything he could have done. Dave had always been the way he was, even as a baby. But the fact still haunted him. The child would never speak.

Dave was, and would always be, mute.


End file.
